PJ chronicles
by sierpinsky
Summary: A collection of drabbles about Prowl and Jazz.
1. Captured

PJ Chronicles 2- Capture

Prowl rebooted sluggishly, feeling a distinct throbbing pain at the back of his helm. The first odd thing he noticed was that he was standing. The next thing was that there was something pressing uncomfortably on his knees, chest, helm and doorwings, and when he brought his optics online, his logic chips did a double take.

There was absolutely nothing where he felt there was. Nothing visible, at least. Beyond that was an unfamiliar room, probably somewhere deep in a Decepticon base, which he deduced from the lack of windows and the Decepticon insignia emblazoned across the door to his right. Opposite him was a large computer console with a camera mounted on top of it. Before it sat a stocky, dirty yellow mech. Prowl straightened, relieving the pressure on various parts of his frame. He raised his hand, and to his horror, it was obstructed on its way to rubbing his helm.

Then it clicked into place. He was sandwiched between the wall and a sheet of plexiglass. He straightened immediately, experimentally pushing against the sheet with his body weight. No such luck. Turning his head, he confirmed his worst fears- he wasn't sandwiched. He was boxed in. A slight reflection on either side told Prowl that he was in a transparent box exactly the 'right' size for him. It was oddly reminiscent of a coffin. With a shudder, he banished the thought.

He then directed his thought train to his options, which, frankly, weren't many. He decided to go with what he was familiar with- protocol.

Oh dear, Prowl thought unhappily. Who was I to think that I'd be relatively all right with a 'desk job' as a tactician, who is supposed to observe the situation from a safe distance and not throw himself into the fray? Of all the things that Prowl could see himself getting into, being kidnapped had never one of them. In fact, he didn't even consider the possibility.

Prowl started with a systems check. He accessed his communication system, and as expected, it was disabled. His weapons system was down too, but fortunately his GPS was till working. Quickly, he accessed it and too slowly, it notified him that he was halfway around the planet from Autobot HQ, in a huge desert in a major landmass but the poor satellite reception prevented him from getting any more information.

Prowl groaned internally. They'll never be able to find me here…

The doors slid open, and a black and red mech stepped in. The yellow mech leaped to his feet and saluted clumsily. They exchanged a few words, and when the black and red mech jerked his head towards Prowl, the yellow one turned shocked optics on Prowl before offering his comrade a sheepish grin.

The black and red mech stalked over to Prowl and rapped his knuckles sharply on the plexiglass, and Prowl flinched. Ruby optics bored into his light blue ones.

"Hey you in there."

Prowl glared at the mech. "What do you want?"

The mech smirked. "We want a ransom, information, or both. Speaking of which…"

He sauntered over to the console and snapped at the yellow mech. He tapped at the keys for a while, bringing the screen online. Prowl read the words scrolling across the screen.

'Connecting to Autobot Headquarters, Campheux…'

'Connected.'

The screen flashed white, then Jazz's face appeared, along with a little box with a live video feed of the computer's camera, currently displaying the yellow mech's ugly mug. It was quickly replaced with the black and red mech, who had shoved his comrade out of his seat. Prowl strained to hear the conversation going on.

"Greetings Autoscum." A smirk stretched the Decepicon's faceplates.

Jazz's visor didn't really hide his scowl. "What do you want?"

The black and red mech feigned surprise. "What do I want? I was going to ask you that. I do believe that we have something that belongs to you. Don't you want it back?" With that, he moved out of the way and let the camera focus on Prowl behind him.

If Jazz was shocked, he did a damn good job of hiding it. Prowl stared intently at his friend, watching as that carefully blank expression did nothing to stop his anger form rolling off him in tangible waves, even through the camera.

"You will give him back…"Jazz growled, but the black and red mech merely laughed.

"Oh of course we will. Only after we get… let's see. This fellow seems worth about… fifty thousand cubes of energon? Yes, that seems about right." He checked his chronometer. "In a solar cycle."

Jazz seemed about to retort, but the Decepticon cut him off.

"Nuh uh. Before you say anything- do you see that? There, at the bottom of his box, there's a tube." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and Jazz nodded tersely. Prowl looked down, and there indeed was a tube leading to his box. The Decepticon paused for effect, then with a wicked grin, he said, "It's hooked up to a vat of acid."

Prowl's energon ran cold.

"If we get the energon late, you can collect what's left of your dear comrade. Which wouldn't be much, sadly."

With a cackle, the Decepticon cut the transmission.


	2. Rescue

PJ Chronicles 3- Rescue

Prowl slumped against the rocks, too dazed to react as his energon slowly accumulated in a glowing pool below him. But that meant little to him. His attention was solely on Jazz. He saw it then, the side of Jazz that the saboteur tried so hard to hide from him. It was also the side that kept him alive in the exceptionally dangerous Special Operations division in the war.

The side of a killer.

He watched Jazz tear into the Decepticons, colouring the azure of the sky with the fluorescent pink of mecehblood that shot up in spurts as he ripped their tubing out. He lashed out repeatedly, striking so fast that his limbs were a blur. His hands, the very same ones that could give gentle, feather-light touches, were brutally twisting limbs out of their sockets and stripping armor from frames with unnecessary force. He moved with a deadly grace, almost like a dancer, but leaving carnage in his wake. His visor flashed a pale white. Heads rolled. One touched Prowl's foot and he reflexively shrunk back from it.

The pile of bodies and parts steadily grew. Finally, the last Decepticon's strangled plea for mercy was abruptly cut off, and the silence was deafening in its wake. Footsteps. Jazz scaled the pile, his visor glowing as he stared intently at Prowl. He stood there, silhouetted by the white sun against the cloudless desert sky for a moment, then gracefully jumped off and landed lightly before Prowl.

By then, it was kind of hard to tell what paint job Jazz had. He was mostly fuchsia at the moment. Deep welts peppered his body, and his visor was cracked. Energon leaked steadily from the shredded parts of his armor.

"Prowler." Jazz said, his voice rough.

The hot desert breeze ghosted over their armor. Prowl just continued to stare at Jazz with wide, pale optics.

At Prowl's lack of response, there was a gentle tap on their bond, and Prowl felt Jazz flinch as he met the numbness within him.

The saboteur rushed forward, disregarding his injuries to sink to his knees and to envelope Prowl in a crushing embrace.

"Prowl, Prowl, Prowl…" his fingers latched onto nooks and crannies in Prowl's armor, desperately trying to feel that Prowl was really and truly back in his arms.

Prowl melted into Jazz, hands coming up to clutch at his rescuer with equal fervor. He felt so safe, despite being miles away from base. Right there, in Jazz's arms, he didn't care that he was getting painted in Decepticons' mechblood. All he cared was the feel of being wrapped up in Jazz's encompassing embrace.

"I told you I'd come." Jazz finally spoke.

Prowl pulled back to give his lover a watery smile. "Yes," he whispered. "You did."

After a short moment of companionable silence, Jazz stood slowly. He turned around and extended his hand to Prowl, who took it and stood.

"C'mon," Jazz said softly, his black-neon pink fingers wrapped around Prowl's white ones. "Let's go home."

Author's notes: this may or may not be related to 'capture'. You decide. ;)


	3. First Impression

PJ Chronicles 4- First Impression

Something about the quiet tactician, something about the cool façade that promised roiling passion beneath, something about the elegant sweeps of his armor- _something_ about Prowl commanded Jazz's entire attention.

Prowl turned and caught him staring.

Instantly, Prowl's gaze ensnared him, making him feel like a butterfly in a spider's web, a specimen being examined by careful white fingers, all-seeing optics penetrating his armor and baring his insides.

Prowl's fingers shifted their hold on his datapad. Jazz twitched.

"Jazz," Prowl said, simply. It was not a greeting; it was a neutral statement that Prowl _knew_ that Jazz was standing there and that he had been staring.

Jazz faltered for a second, then tried to push his bright, easy smile to his face.

"Heya, Prowler." Jazz felt his lips move, his vocalizer forming sounds from a great distance away. Those examining hands turned him over, inspecting.

Prowl's doorwings fluttered.

"My designation is _Prowl_."

Jazz's lips curved up, the fluorescent ceiling lights glinting off the small stretch of Jazz's exposed denta.

"A mere nickname, Prowler m' man." The name curled pleasantly around his tongue.

Prowl's lips twitched in a hint of a smile

"Nice to meet you too, Jazz."

Author's notes: the story is not in chronological order.


	4. Blackwhite lovers

The desert sky was devoid of clouds, so the countless stars above were spread clearly over the silky black of the pre-dawn sky. Prowl stood under the stars' blinking scrutiny, feeling detached from the world with the all-encompassing expanse of sky and desert that stretched in all directions around him. His face was tilted up to meet the stars' knowing gaze. They seemed to say, 'You're just like us.' There were so many of them- billions, in fact- in just this quadrant of Beta Zen that it seemed overcrowded, and yet, each star was light years away from its nearest neighbour.

Prowl sighed quietly, the water vapour in his exhalation condensing into soft wisps of mist around his vents. This unexpectedly long stretch of peace had given Prowl enough time to afford a short drive from the Ark at the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise. He wasn't so sure what had prompted him to do it, but with each passing moment the reason seemed to make itself clearer to him.

Solitude. He was absolutely and utterly alone where he stood, the nocturnal animals already safely buried in their underground nests and the creatures of the day had yet to rise. And he was standing somewhere deliberately away from any potential patrol runs.

Solitude. It seemed only natural.

Slowly, the sky lightened at the horizon, turning a rich shade of purple, then burgundy, then a brilliant orange as the blood-red star eased itself into the sky. The air around it seemed to shimmer and waver as the sun began to banish the deep blue-black out of the sky. The stars took a last look at Prowl before they winked out of sight, chased away by the sun's harsh rays.

The sunlight spilled across the land, and Prowl's optic sensors calibrated themselves to suit the flood of light that hit him straight on. The cacti stood around Prowl like sentries, their spines sharp golden needles, and Prowl was like an unnatural marble statue among the organic beauty that surrounded him.

Isolation. Why?

Suddenly, his audios picked up a familiar sound. The rumble of a high performance engine and the sound of gravel crunching and sand hissing under tires echoed across the barren landscape. Slowly, Prowl turned to face the source of the noise.

Across the land came the familiar sleek shape of Jazz's alt mode. The dawn turned his plating golden-orange as he sped towards Prowl, coming to a gentle stop some distance away and transforming before resuming his course.

"Hey." He raised a hand in greeting, still puffing slightly from the exertion. Prowl gave a polite nod in return before he looked back at the sunrise.

Jazz, used to Prowl's penchant for silence, didn't feel the need to displace the resulting silence with noise, but he was abruptly reminded of why he had driven all the way out here in the first place.

"Prowl," he said suddenly, and received a curt flick of a doorwing in reply. "I... couldn't find you in the Ark this morning."

Prowl arched an optic ridge. "Need I state the obvious? That's because I have been out here since an hour ago." His voice carried easily in the early morning quietness.

Jazz pursed his lips, annoyed. Why did it feel so awkward taking to Prowl? Was it the silence, this total, blanketing silence, unnatural to mechs who lived aboard a ship filled with so many others? Or was it Prowl himself, gazing pensively, almost with a hint of melancholy and longing, at the sun this foreign planet orbited?

"Prowl..."

When he didn't elaborate further, Prowl turned to face Jazz, only reluctantly shifting his gaze away from the sun at the last possible moment.

"Yes, Jazz?"

There. That crisp, cool tone. Aloof, and sure. Holding himself at a distance.

"You're thinking."

"Of course I am." Prowl sounded vaguely insulted.

"No, I mean," Jazz rested his hand over his chest. "You're thinking with _this_. Not that." He tapped the side of his head.

Prowl, finding Jazz's assessment uncomfortably accurate, looked away.

"... Yes," he finally allowed, and he turned back to the sun.

"Something's bothering you-"

"I'm fine, Jazz."

"No, you're not." Suddenly annoyed, Jazz's tone turned sharp, and Prowl abruptly faced him again, surprise flitting over his features.

"You're not fine, Prowl." Even as he said it, he was sure. The tightness around Prowl's mouth. The creased optic ridges. His stance, weary, and optics...

"Let's take a walk." Jazz started to head to a nearby boulder, and after a moment of frowning after Jazz, Prowl followed.

Reaching the boulder, they settled side by side in the sand. Jazz relaxed, stretching out his legs and leaning against the rock, but Prowl opted to hug his upraised knees.

"So," Jazz said after a fashion. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Prowl glanced at him. "I'm..." he tilted his head to the side, and the sunlight set his crimson chevron ablaze. "I'm just so tired of being alone," he admitted quietly.

Jazz regarded him for a moment more. He had said it with the air or someone saying that they were tired from walking around, with that sort of deliberate, casual indifference that Jazz could see through straight away. His optics. Those ice blue crystals of emotion always gave him away.

Jazz lifted his hand off the sand and rested it atop Prowl's, twining their fingers together. Startled, Prowl glanced down at their hands, then up at Jazz's face.

"You don't have to be alone, Prowl." Jazz's visor glowed softly. "You gotta keep telling yourself you don't have to be alone. Those walls you're putting up all the time keep bots away. I know, and I understand, where you're coming from. Why you're doing it. But ultimately, we're not fighing for ideals- no, listen," he said sharply, when it seemed Prowl would interrupt. "Ultimately, we're not fighting for ideals. We fight for each other. For our brothers... and for our friends."

Prowl stared at Jazz then he looked away, turning to face the Sun once more.

They watched the Sun lift itself over the horizon, pouring its liquid gold over the desert sands. Finally, Prowl spoke.

"Jazz... I want to fight for you." He turned to face Jazz. The saboteur was gazing right back at him, the half of his visor that was in the shadow dimmed enough for Prowl to see his optics.

"I fight for you, Prowl," Jazz smiled.

And the distance between them was small, then it was nothing as their lips met in their first kiss, the dawn sunlight caressing their silhouettes and setting the land sparkling like there were diamonds buried in the sand. Their fingers twined tighter together in the sand between them as their lips moved softly, sweetly against each other, and Prowl felt a warmth bloom in his spark at the knowledge that he no longer fought this battle alone.

A/N: In my headcanon this belongs to another universe, but since it's PJ I'll dump it here. It goes with this: http : / / abarai-san . deviantart . com /art/Love-is-black-and-white-267152902


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